


Meeting two of the Cast

by hazeleyes5390



Category: Fringe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazeleyes5390/pseuds/hazeleyes5390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’ve never been one to be obsessed over celebrities. Why hope, dream, or believe that there could be a happy ending there. However, I have to release this because its been brewing in my mind and I am going to release my “angst” in a way I feel comfortable. I won’t mention his name, because I would be embarrassed if he ever stumbled over my humble words but the specifics are going to give it away anyway. </p>
<p>It advanced a level or two that night.<br/>Fringe related because he is and always will be one of my favorite characters.</p>
<p>Rated Teen and Up because it isn't too graphic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting two of the Cast

There is a shelf in my room. A shelf that holds my treasured DVDs and pictures. One, the big one, is a white tulip. The other two are of two of the cast members and I. One, I dressed up as when I attended the event that expanded my view of my small world. The other picture ignites a partially extinguished fire in my heart. 

The man who could seduce you with just his eyes.

I need to breathe.

Rewind back, April 4, 2013.  
Rewind back, to a day that my fangirl heart exploded.  
Words lost, stumbling and embarrassed to meet two humans, two humans that possess a stunning, enchanting quality that I will never have.  
Rewind back, to a night my dreams of being just in the same room with someone became realized as I had front row seats that with a small step could place me on the same floor with these two. Along with the three people who accompanied me to a not-so-foreign country where I was immersed in the scenes that were transformed to show the weekly glances into the lives of a fictional family unit, so dysfunctionally functional. I sat and watched them perform in a different role, both so deliciously done. I became drawn into the story. As grace became grace, the man captivated me. The man, he draws you in and keeps you there in a stance that makes you feel alive and curious. I couldn’t move the muscles in my chest. I had to beautifully question how a man, who I have never met, could even enhance my inner thoughts of places I shouldn’t even allow a stranger. 

The man who could seduce you with just his eyes.

His eyes, they shone on that stage. His eyes, showed his passion, showed his delicate portrayal of another character. As our eyes met, or at least I feel that they did, I caught fire. The sweet violation that I imagine there was wholly welcomed.

Stunned and nervous, I prayed for the small chance in finding a way to get an autograph, two words scribbled on a playbill. As the play ended, we gathered our belongings, my heart and mind included and headed toward the depressing exit. Mentions of doors they may exit, a dash to a car, to be whisked away, scared me. Then to realize that these two amazing artists could, no, would be tired, made me feel that to ask for a simple flick of a pen, may be too much. As we found a direction through the mentions, we waited by a door that with every thrust open, made my heart jump. As other cast members left, my anxiety rose. Soothed by another Fringe fanatic, a common conversation quite calmed me down. 

Time passed.

As I started to dismiss the chance, the door opened. They were there, humans made super a simple script. I spoke to her first, a gentle lady. Tripping over my words, I made sure to mention that I was a great fan of her work, however leaving out that one night, I donned a way too bright red wig and dark clothing to make a clumsy attempt to encompass her role. Getting her signature was easy. A picture, piece of cake. As the other fan finished with him, I got so nervous. Classic sweaty palms and everything. As I approached him, I melted inside. We spoke briefly and I got his autograph. As I asked for a photo with him as well, the kindness that surrounded him was overwhelming to me. He offered to take off his hat, to be more recognizable. I numbly placed my hand on him and smiled for a memory made.

As I thanked him and watched him walk away, I headed back to my life. Making it to my car, my companions and I left. The drive back home, several hours, gave me time to process the amazing night that I had. Going to work the next morning, just two or three hours of returning home, was soothed by looking at the sweet pictures that I had on my phone. 

Giving them a proper frame and place in my room reminded me that anything is possible if I give it a chance. Over time, his picture gave me more purpose. The love of his fans in his eyes seemed to haunt me into my dreams, guiding me to feel a want for him. I wanted a chance to get to his level and become more than just a fan. I want his eyes on me, seducing me with a look that he has perfected. I wanted him to be mine as I would be his. To feel the passion in every inch of his body that he so expresses in the roles I have seen him portray against my imperfect body. To receive love from him and show him that he is appreciated. To melt for him. I wanted to give him the chance to play a new role, a role in my life. 

Pulling the reigns, I remember that some dreams don’t come true but that there is nothing wrong with dreaming them. In my eyes, he will always be the man who could seduce me with just his eyes.


End file.
